


Maybe Forever Will Be Our Always

by mybeanieandme



Series: Post Omens Antics [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon compliant-ish, Drinking, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 01:31:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19097008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mybeanieandme/pseuds/mybeanieandme
Summary: What happens immediately after dinner at the Ritz? Perhaps a trip to the bookshop and a heartfelt confession, a snog and a shag?





	Maybe Forever Will Be Our Always

**Author's Note:**

> This has not been proof read. I was so full of feelings after watching the TV series I had to type them all out. It's very self indulgent and I'm sure that this concept has been done a hundred million times for these characters. Here is my version.
> 
> Also, yes, the title was inspired by the Fault In Our Stars. It has very little to do with anything but.

They had had too much wine to drink at dinner and Aziraphale was tingly all over. But they were celebrating and the champagne was delicious. He’d insisted they had to go to the bookstore because, after the world had not ended, there were hundreds of books he’d never even heard of gracing his shelves and he wanted to show Crowley.

Crowley did not like books, but since he’d been taken to heaven and been made to stand in a pillar of hellfire, he had found himself needing to spend more time with Aziraphale. Before it felt like- what are a couple centuries of absence when all of time is ahead of you? Now it felt like if Crowley couldn’t see Aziraphale he might die. Not discorporate- but die the way that humans do- deep in your soul. Because he knew now what it was like to lose the love of your life. 

The dim lighting of the store was intimate and Crowley was having difficult standing up as they approached the shop door.

“Angel,” Crowley slurred, “We should really be less drunk- we could get less drunk.”

“Not yet-,” Aziraphale insisted. His hand casually grazed the small of Crowley’s back as he unlocked the door and lead him inside. Aziraphale walked past him to turn the lights on deep in the shop as Crowley found the comfiest sofa to collapse into face first.

“I don’t have to be drunk to look at your books,” Crowley called after him, reaching under himself to remove what appeared to be a previously unheard of Harry Potter book. The room was suddenly too dark to read the title of the mystery book. Crowley looked up.

Aziraphale was standing over him, wings out, and pipping hot tea miracled into his hands.

“You really are an angel, you know that?” Crowley said sitting up and taking the cup he was offered.

“As the bebop music would say- I was born this way,” Aziraphael smiled.

Crowley arched an eyebrow and stopped his teacup just before it reached his lips, “Why are you acting so strange?”

“Strange?” Aziraphale sputtered, his teacup clattering lightly as he attempted to set it back in its saucer. 

“You don’t reference Lady Gaga,” Crowley was feeling significantly more sober than before.

There was a slight tremor in Aziraphale’s wing that only Crowley would notice and then worry needled its way into his stomach. “Is everything alright, angel?”

Aziraphale sat beside him, gently arranging his wings over the back of the sofa. “Everything’s just fine,” he tried to smile his most reassuring smile. Crowley reached for his teacup and saucer, and set both their cups on the nearest table keeping mind to not disturb any of the books. And then Crowley took the angel’s hands in his own more gentle than he usually was.

“Everything’s not fine- you got your wings out- there’s something you’re not telling me. Was it your people?” Crowley asked and his voice sounded ready to tear the balls off Satan himself.

Aziraphale looked more sure with their hands touching, he moved ever so slightly closer. “No- the wings-,” he glanced up as if to ask the wings for an explanation and when they gave him nothing he decided to go with the truth. “I’m nervous.”

A blush crept over the angel’s face and Crowley had to fight ever molecule within him not to smirk. “Is that why you wanted me drunk still? Because you needed to be drunk to talk to me?”

Aziraphale nodded almost imperceptibly and Crowley waited for courage to find Aziraphale.

“I love you,” the angel said when the courage finally arrived.

Every inch of Crowley visibly relaxed. “I love you too,” he responded as easy as if he were saying “hello.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened. “You do?”

“I thought it was a bit obvious- you are my best friend and you have been for millennia,” Crowley nodded and withdrew one of his hands to scratch his chin infuriatingly casually.

Aziraphale looked absolutely deflated. Crowley was either being deliberately obtuse or had no idea what he was trying to say. “How can you be like this always?”

“What did I do?” Crowley asked.

Aziraphale answered him with a kiss that was so faint and soft it was like a butterfly had dive-bombed his face. Crowley tightened his grip of the angels hands and kissed him back harder.

“You’re _in_ love with me,” Crowley gasped when they broke apart, their faces so close he could barely focus on any of Aziraphale’s features.

“Is that alright?” Aziraphale asked, knowing that it wasn’t _alright_. They were on opposite sides- but he supposed they were no longer- Crowley had said it himself- they were on their own side.

“It’s about bloody time,” Crowley sighed exasperated and before Aziraphale had time to react the demon had pulled him fully onto his lap, hands low on his back. Crowley kissed him long and hard as if he’d never get the chance to again, and then soft and slow like they had all of eternity to do this. He could feel the angel’s face hot against his own, it held all the strength of hellfire but not the wickedness. It was innocent, bashful, and for him and therefore precious to him.

“Your wings,” Aziraphale said sounding astonished but Crowley was unsure what about. He surrounded them with his wings and went back to kissing the angel in his lap.

In the shade of Crowley’s wings Aziraphale felt suddenly bolder, he supposed it was because he felt inexplicably safe. They were rogue former agents of enemy states who no one knew how to deal with. But in the cocoon of Crowley’s wings, their mouths pressed together, he found he did not care at all.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for you to love me back?” Crowley asked against Aziraphale’s lips. There was something in his voice the angel had not ever heard before. And then he chuckled, mostly to himself.

“What?” asked Aziraphale.

“It took you until the end of the world and still I thought it might take longer,” Crowley laughed and then kissed him again.

“Should we have sex?” Aziraphale asked.

“Satan do I ever want to,” Crowley nodded enthusiastically.

“But-?”

“That’s not going too fast for you?” Crowley asked, genuinely curious.

“I’ve just confessed my love to you!” Aziraphale exclaimed.

“Yes- but that doesn’t imply you want to be intimate right this second,” Crowley explained.

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “Trust a demon to respect consent and boundaries.”

“Only with you,” the demon said and kissed him again. “Only because I’m in love with you.”

Then they were upstairs on a bed on crisp white linen sheets completely naked. Crowley had never been in this room before. It smelled slightly different than the rest of the shop- more like Aziraphale and less like old books which made this by far his favorite room. But he could not be bothered with the details of the hand embroidered blue floral curtains or vintage table lamps because they were naked and it was all he had ever wanted.

Crowley was laid out flat on his back with Aziraphale between his legs, his erection so hard it hurt. Aziraphale was stroking them together so achingly slow Crowley wanted to cry.

“Is this alright?” Aziraphale asked, leaning in for another kiss.

“Yes,” Crowley hissed with pleasure and wrapped his hand around the angel’s increasing the pressure ever so slightly and the tempo of the movement. That made Aziraphale moan and Crowley wanted to absolutely devour him whole.

“Fuck me, angel,” Crowley gasped and Aziraphale’s hand stopped completely causing the demon to buck involuntarily, longing for the friction again.

“Yes,” Aziraphale nodded and miracled a bottle of lubricant out of nowhere. He slicked his fingers and Crowley spread his legs wider. Aziraphale pressed a tentative finger inside and Crowley had to will himself not to come. He hadn’t been touched like this in decades. Since spreading temptation with wild abandon at that party at Andy Warhol’s. And it was never like this. Satan, it was never like this.

“Another,” Crowley encouraged and Aziraphale obliged. He works his way to a third, deftly working until Crowley did scream, gripping the sheets tightly.

Aziraphale stopped in alarm. “Cock,” Crowley demanded and Aziraphale replaced his fingers with the head of his cock.

Crowley was hot and slick and tight around him and suddenly Aziraphale understood why most humans did this. He had begun to understand when he had rested his full weight into Crowley’s lap on the sofa and the demon had pulled him closer as if their bodies could never be close enough for him. It was the trickle of a spark he had felt whenever they had shaken hands but multiplied by the number of stars in the cosmos. They had to be naked to touch everywhere. Every inch of flesh and skin with every hair and freckle. Every self-conscious thought he’d had about his body was erased as Crowley had tasted his skin. He turned him on and the feeling was so incredibly mutual.

Aziraphale thrust in gently until his skin was flush with Crowley’s. Then his hips snapped as if they had a mind of their own, craving that sweet warmth and never possibly being deep enough. Crowley moaned as Aziraphale’s cock pressed in all the right ways and their eyes met.

“Stroke your cock for me,” Aziraphale requested. “I want to see how you touch yourself.”

Crowley’s fingers never left the sheets as he came hard between them, his orgasm shocked out of him by the angel’s dirty talk. Aziraphale followed almost instantly after, Crowley tightening just that much more around him. They moaned into each other’s skin as Aziraphale collapsed ontop of him, not care at all about the sticky mess between them or the sudden itchiness of his skin.

He could feel Crowley’s heart beat, fast and sure, and he wanted to lay there forever.

But it wasn’t entirely comfortable after moments and they moved into the shower, tucking wings in tightly to fit into the space. “I’m going to smell like you after this and be horny forever,” Crowley complained as Aziraphale dutifully washed his chest with his favorite brand of soap.

“Guess we’ll just have to keep doing this then,” the angel smiled like a devil.

“Forever?” Crowley grinned toothily.

“Forever.”


End file.
